Number Seventy Seven Cornwall Gardens
by Atomix330
Summary: A one shot, summarising Hermione's life before Hogwarts and continuing up until the events of the troll in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. A spin-off from my other story 'Inheritance'. All credit for this goes to JK Rowling.


**Number Seventy Seven Cornwall Gardens**

_A/N: Hello! You could call this a companion piece to my other story 'Inheritance'. This was originally the bulk of Chapter 5 of that story which I have edited and am now re-releasing as a one shot. The original story was edited on 30-09-14 or 09-30-14 for my American readers. Enjoy._

* * *

Before Hogwarts, Hermione had been going to a private prep-school in Holland Park. She didn't have any friends there. She was always taunted because of her intelligence – for example she was working at the same level as an eleven year old at the age of seven. Cruel nicknames such as 'The Bucktoothed Bookworm' and 'Little Miss-Know-it-All' were almost all she heard from her classmates in seven years there. By the age of ten she had to endure endless criticism of her looks and how she wasn't an 'ordinary' girl – being more interested in books (she had read all thirty two volumes of the Encyclopaedia Britannica by the end of her last year at that school, and her favourite books were by authors such as Agatha Christie, Jane Austen and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle – the usual response to this was 'who?') than dresses, cosmetics, fashion and even boys.

It didn't help that by her last year a certain clique of girls set out to make her life miserable at every possible opportunity. This clique – led by India Chambers, the only daughter of an investment banker who acted angelic and sweetly innocent around adults but was as vicious as the Venomous Tentacula – did everything from whispering behind her back to leaving insulting notes on her desk to once smashing an egg in her locker and conveniently forgetting all about it over the Christmas holiday, consequently the locker stank when classes resumed in January.

The boys just ignored her, not wanting to 'stain their character' by being friends with 'The Bookworm'. Not that Hermione was sorry not to be associated with them, she saw them as egotistical airheads. Some behaved much like Malfoy – the blond ponce.

By contrast, the teachers had never had a more attentive student. The level of her intelligence made others in her class look like they only had three or four grey-cells between them. By the end of it, Hermione was very much of the opinion that most private schoolchildren were spoilt, privileged brats who saw everything they wanted given to them all of the time with their parents treating the school as a £11000 a year day-care.

* * *

Hermione's home was her sanctuary. Where she could safely ensconce herself among books she loved and parents who adored her. Hermione was nearly a carbon copy of her then thirty-nine year old mother, except her jaw line which was most definitely her father's. Dominic Granger was tall, dark haired, bespectacled and kindly. Both parents loved her dearly and tried to make her life outside of school as good as possible to compensate the issues she was having at Holland Park.

The only reason Hermione still went to Holland Park was because it was the best school in the area for academic results and development. Hermione grudgingly agreed. The students there may have few brain cells between them but at least they had more than some of the dunderheads in the local state primary school. Hermione had seen them on the way home from school occasionally. The impression she got was that their average level of behaviour was the equivalent of that of a badly behaved toddler.

Hermione thought she had the perfect set of parents. Her Mum, Emily, only worked part time from nine until three in the afternoon which gave her plenty of time with her daughter once she collected her from Hermione's school. Meanwhile her Dad would always leave the practise no later than five-thirty to be home in time for dinner. The weekends would then be spent doing everything from trips to the museums on Exhibition Road which were at most a half-an-hour walk or driving out of the metropolis that was Greater London and exploring the rest of south-eastern England. Occasionally on a Bank Holiday they would travel further; to the West Country or East Anglia and relax further afield.

Whilst she had the perfect set of parents, she was astounded that they were actually related to some of her relatives. Her twin cousins, daughters of her mother's brother in particular. They were almost exactly the same age, Hermione being older by a couple of months. Patricia and Antonia were nightmares. Thinking back, Hermione could almost compare them to some members of Slytherin House. They were also much like some of her classmates. They were snobbish, entitled and over-privileged. It was a wonder that they were related to her uncle and aunt who she adored. Hermione suspected that her cousins' attitude wasn't helped by the fact that her aunt was the Hon. Mrs Sarah Waverley – and the daughter of a viscount. Patricia and Antonia had their parents around their little fingers and lived in an equally impressive house in Chelsea. Her two younger cousins had mastered the skill of being nasty whilst the adults weren't watching. If Hermione's Aunt Sarah had been watching, the consequences for them would be severe – no riding lessons, no new clothes for a month and no chocolate for a fortnight. And they had been caught a couple of times. Hermione on the other hand couldn't care less; she had never ridden a horse in her life, was quite happy with her wardrobe and only really ate chocolate occasionally – her parents being dentists had strongly discouraged having such an addiction to the sweet stuff.

Hermione only justified herself by not rising to their taunts over how 'impoverished' she was from her cousins. Consequentially, she always had the moral high ground and never got into trouble. While she may only have (slightly) less financially, she easily made up for with brain power. Her cousin's weren't exactly that rich either, most of the money in that family had been inherited from various relatives and then gradually spent – in truth there was actually very little income except through her aunt's allowance and a few of her uncle's investments.

Remarkably, even her aunt and uncle seemed to tire of them, often coming round for dinner while leaving their offspring with the nanny. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that she was the daughter her Aunt Sarah and Uncle Andrew always wanted but were never fortunate enough to get. Patricia and Antonia were just jealous of the attention her parents showed her.

* * *

Hermione was looking forward to the day when she could leave the school in Holland Park behind her, so much so that she already had her parents look towards signing her up anywhere else, from the local comprehensive to a private boarding school in Wiltshire. Then out of the blue a letter from Hogwarts arrived addressed in green ink to _Miss H. Granger, The Second Largest Bedroom, 77 Cornwall Gardens, Kensington, London_. She could remember the wording as if it was yesterday, the letter itself was hanging on her office wall in the Ministry.

* * *

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1__st__. We await your owl by no later than 31__st__ July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

* * *

There was another letter on top of this for Hermione and her parents.

_Dear Mr and Mrs Granger,_

_I understand that you may be shocked that your child displays magical abilities. Indeed Hermione may have already displayed signs of 'accidental magic' so you may treat this as an official confirmation of the fact. As a recipient of this letter you come under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic for Magical Britain and so come within the jurisdiction of our laws including the 1692 International Statute of Secrecy which keeps the non-magical or muggle population of the world unaware of their magical counterparts. Breaking the Statute of Secrecy can result in a heavy fine or a custodial term in a magical prison. As the parents of a magical child you are privy to the knowledge of the magical world but on no count should you expose the existence of the magical world to anyone who is not privy the information, this includes extended family members, friends and work colleagues, unless there are exceptional circumstances._

_As you will know by now, Hermione has been offered a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hogwarts the main institution for the study of magic in the British Isles. We are located in the Highlands of Scotland. Hogwarts is a boarding school and a publicly funded institution, funded through the Ministry of Magic by British magical taxpayers._

_As Hermione is the first in your family to display magical ability, I will arrive at your home at Number 77, Cornwall Gardens, Kensington at half past eight on the morning of Saturday, July 25__th__ to introduce you to the magical world. We will also open an account for you at Gringotts Bank and buy all of Hermione's books and equipment in Diagon Alley._

_As you do not currently have an owl, you may contact me at the school at this address to confirm your child's attendance at Hogwarts or to raise any concerns or questions you may have:_

_M. McGonagall_

_101 Charing Cross Road_

_PO Box 564_

_WC2H 0DT._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

* * *

The third piece of parchment in the envelope contained the equipment list for first year. Hermione had been a little doubtful at first, thinking that it could be one of India Chambers' more elaborate pranks. But here was an offer of a place at a school for magic! She had her parents immediately agree to McGonagall's visit and had her acceptance letter in the post the same day.

When all was said and done, Hermione lay awake that night with doubts. Magic? Does it really exist? It's just a myth only found in fairy tales and Disney films. But then she thought about some of the strange things that had happened when she was a baby – toys out of her reach suddenly appearing in her hands when she want them or making the mobile above her cot spin for hours when she wanted it to despite the mobile being un-motorised. At least that's what her parents told her. What they didn't tell her until much later was she once knocked out her two front teeth as a toddler and the teeth regrew overnight. That little known fact came out when McGonagall asked them whether they had ever seen any signs of accidental magic in their first meeting.

On that Saturday, McGonagall rang the doorbell of Number Seventy Seven at exactly half past eight, dressed in a long tweed coat with a tartan silk scarf around her neck. She almost reminded Hermione of her old headmistress at the prep school. Looks severe but in fact kindly – summed her up in one sentence. Her parents immediately took a liking to her and invited the professor in and offered her a cup of tea.

Hermione was the first to ask a question, and looking back on it the question was quite an arrogant one; "If there really is such a thing as 'magic', then prove it. Or is this just an elaborate prank?"

"No, Miss Granger this is no prank, although I have come across some good ones in my time at Hogwarts. I suggest you look at the tea cup on the table." All three Grangers turned to watch the cup which had sprouted legs and arms and was juggling the droplets of tea. They then turned back towards McGonagall, except it wasn't McGonagall. In her place sat a tabby cat staring at them intently. If they had really looked carefully that day they would have noticed the markings around the cat's eyes which corresponded to McGonagall's glasses. But after less than a second McGonagall changed back into her normal form and summoned the tea cup to her hand. She took a sip and replaced the cup in its saucer before eying up the shocked Grangers.

"No, Miss Granger, I assure you this isn't a hoax, prank, trick or otherwise on you and your parents," she repeated coolly before smiling slightly at her and her parents looks of astonishment. One of the best parts of this job was seeing little faces frozen in wonder at the marvels they've just seen.

Hermione's father, Dominic was next to speak. "So you think Hermione could do something like that?" McGonagall nodded.

"How?" asked Hermione.

"With practise, education and focus, which judging by your home and your school history which I have seen shouldn't be that difficult."

"What does our home have to do with it?" asked Emily.

"The sheer amount of books on the shelves!" said McGonagall simply, eying the bookcases that lined three walls of the sitting room that were packed with books including the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, the _Guinness World Records_, the _Times Atlas_ and several takes on the histories of Britain, Europe, America and the rest of the world. As well as over two dozen bound volumes of various medical journals, magazines on history and science and Emily Watson's copious collection of women's magazines. On the coffee table lay the day's _Guardian_ on top of _The Times_ and _The Daily Telegraph_. Hermione read each paper every day and did the _Times Crossword_. A _Radio Times_ was sat on an armchair alongside the remote for a large television in the corner of the room. The only free wall in the room was occupied by a large marble fireplace with a large frameless mirror.

The rest of the house was much the same. In fact the only rooms free of books were the hallways and the bathrooms – of which there were three. Hermione's favourite thing in the world was a good book. Often when she had finished her work in class she would pull out the latest tome she had been reading so she could often be found trying to concentrate on the works of anyone from Churchill to Virginia Woolf whilst the rest of her class failed to apply what little intelligence they had to the work.

The Grangers were always buying new books, whether they be new from the bookshops or gems picked up in charity shops at weekends. The constant issue was that they were always running out of space so many books were consigned to cardboard boxes in the basement after being thoroughly read and catalogued accordingly in the large ledger the family used to keep track of the multitude of volumes they possessed. Hermione estimated that her house contained more books than her school library, if not the local public library.

After Professor McGonagall had explained the plan for the day they all trooped off to the Charing Cross Road in Dominic Granger's car – he had a Volkswagen Passat at the time. Her first proper sight of magic was nestled between a bookshop – which Hermione resisted the urge to enter – and a record store. She could see a small dingy looking pub called the Leaky Cauldron – she only saw it when McGonagall indicated it from the car. Her parents initially couldn't see it until McGonagall cast a charm on them. "It's permanent and will allow you a greater experience of the magical world as a non-magical," the Transfiguration professor explained.

McGonagall greeted the barman, Tom and reserved a table for lunch before the party of 4 went out through the back door of the pub, only to be faced by a brick door and some dustbins. McGonagall explained that the Leaky Cauldron was one of the gateways to the magical side of London, in this case Diagon Alley which was Magical Britain's largest shopping district and an essential stop for all those requiring items for Hogwarts. She also explained and demonstrated how to get into the alley from the back of the Leaky Cauldron by tapping a certain brick on the wall with her wand.

As McGonagall did so, a wonderful site materialised in front of the Grangers. A bustling street, packed with wizards and witches going about their daily business. But what excited Hermione the most were the shops and the things they were selling. There were shops selling everything from telescopes and weighing scales to cauldrons and little spindly instruments that Hermione had never seen before. There were apothecaries selling potions ingredients that Hermione would have thought had been made up if she wasn't seeing it with her own eyes – ingredients like unicorn horn and hair, kelpie scales, herringwort seeds, acromantula venom and cuscuta tendrils. There was even a large bookshop called Flourish and Blotts which displayed titles such as _Advanced Transfiguration – a Guide to Mastery_, _My Magical Journey – Martin Fleming's travels around the World, Hogwarts – A History (342__nd__ Edition), Enchanting Liberty – a study of Magical America_ and _Phials of Hilarity – Potions for the up and coming comedian or prankster extraordinaire_. Hermione just stared at this particular window for several minutes before being told by McGonagall that the Bank was the first port of call on their journey.

* * *

Gringotts was unlike any bank Hermione had ever been in to. There were no glass screens or ATMs or posters advertising the bank's latest offers. Instead there were humanoid creatures bowing her into a gargantuan gleaming white marble building through burnished bronzed doors.

"What are those things?" Dominic Granger asked, echoing the sentiments of his wife and daughter.

"Goblins, they are the financiers of the wizarding world. You muggles have the City of London, Wall St, the FTSE 100 and the Dow Jones, we have goblins. They have the best heads for business in the magical world and are also a fierce warrior race and have shall we say 'an interesting sense of humour'. They'll do you no harm as long as you treat them and their bank with respect but one word of advice – never cross a goblin or it may be the last thing you ever do." McGonagall explained.

The one bank Hermione could compare Gringotts to, was the Bank of England which sits imposingly on Threadneedle St in the heart of the City. Although unlike the Old Lady of Threadneedle St, Gringotts functioned like an ordinary bank where you could open a bank account, ask for a loan and deposit valuables.

McGonagall guided the Grangers to a goblin teller who was examining an impossibly large light blue gemstone who put down his work and greeted the Hogwarts professor. For the Granger's benefit McGonagall explained the situation.

"For every muggleborn student like Hermione, Hogwarts grants a bursary of sorts to the value of 500 galleons which is the British magical currency. 500 galleons is somewhere between £6000-7500 in muggle pounds. This is to cover all of the costs of all equipment for Hermione's education. The 500 galleons is deposited in a vault which we shall open shortly, you may of course add to this amount if you wish – the exchange rate is currently about £14 to the galleon."

McGonagall gave Hermione and her parents some forms to sign to open a new vault and get a key for it which was duly handed over. McGonagall and the goblin teller then brought them through a set of large doors and down a flight of stairs into what looked like a cavern.

"This is where one goes to access one's vault," the goblin who had been introduced by McGonagall as Copperbolt explained. "Gringotts holds many thousands of vaults some of which are very large and highly secure – guarded by dragons – others are nothing but safety deposit boxes. You will be receiving our standard style of vault which we provide for every muggleborn with Hogwarts paying to open it.

With that, Copperbolt guided them to a 'station' of sorts. Wizards and witches were being led by goblins to small railway tracks, the goblin then whistled to summon a cart and then each party set off. The Grangers accompanied by McGonagall and Copperbolt did the same.

Riding the cart was very much like riding on a rollercoaster, Hermione had been on a rollercoaster once in her life before announcing to her parents that it was an experience she had no desire to repeat. After several minutes – although it had seemed like an eternity – the cart slowed to a halt.

Copperbolt took a lantern and beckoned them towards a large door set into the wall. "This is your vault, number one thousand, four hundred and fifty-three." Copperbolt announced. "To open it for you we require a droplet of blood and a galleon from the moneybag Professor McGonagall has as the first deposit in your vault. Use this to prick your finger and then touch the galleon." Copperbolt handed Hermione a silver needle, she pricked her finger before placing it on the offered galleon. The galleon immediately seemed to melt but she couldn't feel any heat. The enchanted molten gold then solidified into an ornate golden key – about the same size as a regular house key.

"Why not just forge the key?" asked Emily Granger. "Why go to all this business over blood and touching coins?"

"That is a very simple question to answer Madam," the goblin replied. "By opening a vault with us, you open what is the equivalent to a bank account. As you know bank accounts can't exist if they have nothing in them. The galleon that is now the key has the sum of one galleon, thus opening the account and in reality allowing access to the vault. The use of blood in the forging of the key is for security reasons, now that your daughter's has forged the key, the vault appears in her name and she is the only human who may open the door. In our world, blood is the most accurate identification. Now Miss Granger if you would like to open the vault with your key."

Hermione did as she was told and the door swung open to reveal a room as large as Hermione's bedroom at home. It was completely empty, not even a speck of dust was visible. "Now we deposit the money, if you please Professor McGonagall."

McGonagall tipped the small money pouch upside down and a stream of gold, silver and bronze fell from the bag and organised itself into neat stacks of coins, organised by type, all exactly the same height. "As you know, the gold ones are galleons. The silver coins are sickles and the bronze ones are knuts. In a galleon, there are seventeen silver sickles and to each sickle there are twenty-nine knuts making one galleon worth four hundred and ninety three knuts." McGonagall explained to the Granger's.

Hermione immediately caught on; "So it's like having one hundred pence to the pound or one hundred cents to the dollar with each penny or cent in sufficient quantities equalling another coin of a different value like twenty pennies to a twenty pence piece or ten cents to the dime with five twenty pence coins to the pound and ten dimes to the dollar."

"Precisely." Copperbolt replied. McGonagall smiled, she was going to enjoy teaching Hermione Granger very much. Once McGonagall had deposited a few stacks of coins back into the pouch telling the Grangers that this would be for the day's business, the group once again rode the cart back to the surface.

Dominic Granger looked very green after his second – and hoped it would be his last – journey in a Gringotts bank cart.

* * *

Once the goblins had bid them 'good-day', the Grangers and McGonagall wandered through the alley ticking various things off her equipment list. She bought standard school trunk, cauldron and telescope as well as some basic potions ingredients. This was followed by a robe fitting at Madam Malkin's whilst McGonagall explained a little about Hogwarts; it's history, houses and founders when Madam Malkin asked the question "do you think you know which house you will be in?"

McGonagall then proceeded to explain some of the early history of Hogwarts with its founders and houses. Hufflepuff House was named after Helga Hufflepuff and would be headed by her Herbology teacher – a Professor Sprout. ("Think of it as magical botany with a little biology mixed in." McGonagall explained when she asked what 'Herbology" actually was.) Hufflepuffs were known for being hardworking, patient and loyal with a string sense of fair play, their house emblem was a badger.

Ravenclaw House was the home of those with wit, intelligence, knowledge and academic passion. It was named after Rowena Ravenclaw and would be headed by a Professor Flitwick – who taught Charms. ("Essentially magical manipulation of objects – making them do weird and wonderful things." McGonagall said.) Their symbol was an eagle.

Slytherin House's symbol was a snake. Their values were resourcefulness, ambition and cunning although McGonagall warned that she may encounter prejudice from Slytherin House as their members took a lot of pride in their magical heritage – essentially, they could discriminate against her because of her non-magical upbringing. "But then again, Slytherin's usually discriminate against anyone who doesn't belong to their house. Don't worry about it, there will plenty of people starting Hogwarts this year who are in exactly the same position as you" McGonagall reassured. A Professor Snape headed Slytherin, he taught Potions. ("Imagine your Science lessons, then imagine it being like a chemistry lesson with a little alchemy and biology sprinkled in." McGonagall explained.) Slytherin House's namesake was one Salazar Slytherin.

Finally, Professor McGonagall herself headed Gryffindor House. She taught Transfiguration – "The art of turning one object into another – manipulating the physical attributes of the object."

Hermione proposed a hypothetical; "So you could actually turn a man into a frog?"

"You know, that's one of the most common questions I get asked by muggleborns after I explain what transfiguration is. But essentially, yes I could. Although I'll have you know that the Ministry of Magic – the British Magical Government if you will – strongly discourage such acts and human-to-creature transformation is a highly regulated branch of magic. In September we will start transfiguring small objects think about matchsticks into needles, that sort of thing."

Gryffindor valued courage, nerve, daring and chivalry and was founded by Godric Gryffindor. Its house emblem was a lion.

"There is also a fierce rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin and there has been since the time of the Founders, particularly in the case of Quidditch and the matter of the House Cup."

"Quidditch?" asked Dominic Granger.

"It's a magical sport, played on brooms. It has popularity in the magical world equivalent to that of football in many parts of the muggle world. My best, brief, description of it is a magical cross between basketball and rugby but played in the air. Hermione will learn how to fly on a broom in September but she won't be able to have her own broomstick in school until her second year."

"Sounds rough, aerial rugby?" Dominic Granger grimaced, remembering his school days and the particularly nasty tackle he had once received from a boy in the fifth form, that particular boy later played rugby for England at the World Cup.

"Well I've never liked playing sport at school and I've got vertigo so I doubt Quidditch is for me." Hermione said.

"You've always been more at home applying yourself academically dear, I was just like you at your age and I never enjoyed sport at school," reassured Emily Granger.

"Believe me, almost everyone at Hogwarts watches every match. If only for the entertainment factor!"

* * *

By the time they left Madam Malkin's, Hermione had her requisite uniform including a black hat – "Only really necessary for the Welcoming and End of Term Feasts," – and a heavy black cloak with silver fastenings – "Winter in Scotland is cold." McGonagall warned. Hermione nodded, remembering the one time she had ever been to Scotland, it had been to see some of her mother's friends from university over the New Year in a little town just south of Inverness, they had been snowed in for two days and the thermostat hadn't been turned down the whole time they had been there.

The next stop on their shopping expedition was lunch at the Leaky Cauldron where McGonagall sent their purchases to the boot of the Granger's care with a wave of her wand while explaining various things about magic and answered many of the questions put to her by the Grangers. In McGonagall's experience of dealing with the muggle parents of magical children, the Grangers took to magic like a duck takes to water, only wanting to know more about the new situation they had found themselves in. McGonagall had come across many muggleborns in her time at Hogwarts and had a hand in introducing many of them to the magical world. These children came from all walks of life – from loving, caring, open-minded families like the Grangers, to bigoted, conservative muggle families who saw their magical off-spring as 'disabled', 'deformed' or 'delinquent' and were only too happy to let their child be taken off to Hogwarts for nine or ten months of the year.

But some of McGonagall's saddest cases were of those muggleborns in care, with foster-parents or in orphanages. They were few and far between and even though McGonagall wasn't a mother, it broke her heart to see children essentially abandoned by all around them, sometimes through misfortune but often deliberately by their families because they saw magic as 'freakishness' or an 'abnormality'. It was as if magic was a debilitating disease. McGonagall put the muggle parents who did this to their children in the same boat as some of the most bigoted purebloods who would happily marry their own first cousins to, as Walburga Black had said to her once; "keep the bloodlines pure of that muggle filth."

McGonagall also explained some of the divisions in magical society – the light, the grey and the dark factions of Magical Britain. As well as the rise and fall of the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort who McGonagall gave the pseudonym "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" or "You-Know-Who". Hermione later realised this was understandable after McGonagall compared him to Adolf Hitler. Hermione thought she might throw up her lunch after hearing some of the atrocities he had committed.

The first stop after lunch was the one she was looking forward to most. Flourish and Blotts. As a bibliophile, Hermione loved books and all that went with them including the bookshops. Although she loved books, there were some exceptions – flimsy paperback romance novels and glossy celebrity autobiographies being some of them. But the feel of a weighty, leather bound, hardback book was a joy to her heart. Almost the older, the better. As Dominic Granger once said on the subject of books; "Sadly they don't make them like they used to." The only place where one could find a book of such quality would be in a charity shop or specialist bookshop that dealt with antiquarian books.

But in Flourish and Blotts, nearly every book had a luxurious binding with not a scrappy paperback to be seen. The smell in the shop was that of old paper, old knowledge and of knowledge yet to be discovered. And the bookshelves were of a solid dark wood, to Hermione, the shelf was as equally as important as the book – she detested the metal shelves in use in the public libraries in her part of London and some of the flat pack bookcases she had seen – how could you place an object of so much beauty on chipboard?

McGonagall had anticipated that they could be spending quite a bit of time here so had planned accordingly. She asked one of the shop assistants to help them find the books on the equipment list and once they had found and paid for them, the Transfiguration professor suggested a few other titles for her and her parents including _Hogwarts – A History_, _The Enchanted Globe Guide to Magical Britain _(found in the Travel and Tourism section of the vast shop, easily as big as Foyle's in Charing Cross), _Modern Magical History_, _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _(to give Hermione a better view of "You-Know-Who").

Hermione wanted more though and so was given some galleons by McGonagall and told to browse the aisles and look for some more books that she would want to buy. Meanwhile, her parents and the professor would buy some of the small essential items on the equipment list such as stationary and would collect her in an hour and a half.

So Hermione was left in her equivalent of heaven for the next ninety minutes and as it turned out, the gold McGonagall had left her was more than ample to cover all her expenses in the shop. The family left the shop with more than a dozen extra volumes in a packing case which was also sent to the Granger's car with a wave of the professor's wand. This included _Basic Magic for Beginners _("Everyone must have had to start somewhere"), _An Atlas for the Magical World, Johnson's Dictionary of Magical Terminology _and _The Magical World for Muggleborns_. Almost all of these books now sat in her trunk in the attic of 77 Cornwall Gardens along with many other relics of her time at Hogwarts.

* * *

On the subject of wands, the final shop they entered was Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. After Flourish and Blotts, this was the shop she was looking forward to the most. She had seen McGonagall use her wand all day and was amazed at the things she could do with it and couldn't wait to even attempt to do the same. The wand maker was initially nowhere to be seen but they all heard the tinkle of a bell come from the depths of the shop. The shop front itself was small and shabby, the paint was peeling and a single wand sat on a very dusty velvet cushion in the front window. In front of the counter was a single spindly chair which Emily Granger went to sit on. Behind the counter, Hermione could only see thousands of boxes stacked by the dozen on to endless shelves, as far as she could tell, there were boxes from floor to ceiling, each about two inches high and two wide. Hermione could almost feel the magic in the room and the hairs on the back of her neck rose.

"He'll be here in a moment." McGonagall reassured the Grangers. "He does this every time, mostly for dramatic effect!"

As if on cue, an elderly man appeared before them.

"Good afternoon. We meet once again Minerva McGonagall, I don't believe I have seen these people before so I think some introductions are in order."

"Indeed Garrick. This is Dominic and Emily Granger and their daughter Hermione who will be starting at Hogwarts in September. Dominic, Emily and Hermione this is Mr Garrick Ollivander who possibly the best wand maker of his generation, at least in this country."

"Minerva, you flatter me. Granger, not a family name I have heard before, can I politely assume that you are a non-magical family. Certainly judging by your daughter's name; Hermione. Shakespeare isn't it?"

"The Winter's Tale, Mr Ollivander but not many people recognise it." Hermione blushed.

"My mother was muggle born and Shakespeare himself was a squib."

"Squib?" asked Emily Granger.

"A non-magical child born to a magical family."

"Ah, Hermione is also the name of the daughter of Helen of Troy in Greek legend."

"I assure you Mrs Granger, in the magical world, many of the events that muggles consider mythical did in fact happen, it only took great story tellers to tell them. The gods for example were not divine but had the use of magic."

McGonagall coughed, as if to try and steer the conversation back to the intended destination of purchasing a wand.

"Now, I assume we are here to acquire a wand for you young lady," Ollivander returned to business, "which is your wand arm?"

"I'm right handed."

"If you would just hold out your arm so we can take the required measurements." As the wand maker spoke, he began to explain the basics of wands while a large tape measure started to measure her arm whilst a quill jotted down notes on a piece of parchment hovering in the air.

"Every wand is unique and it is both the most basic and the most important tool in a witch or wizard's arsenal. It is not a weapon, although can be used as one – much as a frying pan is a useful kitchen implement put can also be used as metal club. There are three basic properties of a wand, its length, its core and the wood it is made from. I use wood from almost every species of tree on the planet, this can then be cut and shaped to size before I add the core. The core of a wand is that of a magical material and allows the wand to form a conduit between a person's magical core and the environment they are in so they can begin to cast spells. However, some are lucky enough to have such large magical cores that they have no use of a wand. The magical core remains the same size throughout one's life, it doesn't grow or shrink parts of it however can lie dormant. Consequentially you may have noticed when you were younger you had the ability to perform accidental wandless magic. As you have grown and developed, your magical core has shrunk in proportion to your body and so you will require a wand to once again perform spells. The three materials I usually use for cores are unicorn tail hair, dragon heartstring and phoenix feathers. The materials the wand is made from can also induce an affinity for a certain branch of magic, for example Professor McGonagall's wand is ten and three-quarter inches long, made of mahogany with the heartstring of a particularly vicious Hebredian Black dragon for its core, the combination is particularly suited to the art of transfiguration. Am I not right Minerva?"

"As you say Garrick, you remember every wand you ever sell," replied the professor in question.

The tape measure now appeared to be working of its own accord, measuring from fingertip-to-shoulder, then wrist-to-elbow, wrist-to-shoulder, then head-to-toe, shoulder-to-ankle and finally around her head. "That will be enough," the wand maker told the tape measure which fell to the floor as he snatched the parchment from the air, quickly read it and then started to pull boxes from the shelves.

"Where to you get the materials from?" asked a highly curious Hermione.

"I travel the world during in the spring on the lookout for suitable material, not just any twig will do. At most I make no more than two dozen wands a year, thankfully I have a stock of thousands of wands. You see them here, lining the shelves. Some of these wands date back centuries, simply because the witch or wizard they are suitable for has not yet come through my door. The wand chooses the witch, Miss Granger. The woods come from trees which indicate that they are wand bearing by the presence of certain magical creatures – for example bowtruckles. The cores are found in all sorts of places, sometimes phoenixes give me their tail feathers but that is a very rare occurrence. You can buy all three of my main core materials on the open market but I find that they rarely make powerful wands. Unicorn tail hair must be plucked from a live unicorn and a dragon heartstring cut from a recently deceased dragon for maximum effect."

Hermione was drinking the information in. "Now," the wand maker handed her a wand, "try this, all I want you to just give it a wave, you will feel something if the wand is suitable. Its chestnut and phoenix feather, twelve inches." Hermione took the offered wand and waved it several times but felt nothing. She handed it back, disappointed.

"No, not to worry, I'm rarely right first time but then that is half the fun of the job." Ollivander smiled. "Take two, pine and dragon heartstring, eleven and a half inches." Again there was nothing.

"Beech and unicorn tail hair, nine and a quarter inches. No? Well let's try again, not to worry, there is definitely something here that will suit you."

They had gone through nearly a dozen wands, twelve times Hermione had tried and failed and was about to give up hope. "Do not lose heart my dear, the record for the number of wands tried before purchasing is well over two hundred and fifty, the front of the shop was in quite a state afterwards." Ollivander quipped. Hermione was getting frustrated, she had never had to try more than twelve times to achieve her desired objective when she was learning something.

"Wand number thirteen, vinewood and dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches."

"Thirteen; unlucky for some." Dominic Granger quipped.

"Ah, but one of the most powerful magical numbers Mr Granger," retorted Professor McGonagall who knew full well what Hermione was going through, she had seen this process so many times and couldn't help but be excited by it. At her own wand purchasing, she was trying wands for nearly an hour in the presence of Garrick Ollivander's late father so knew how Hermione had been feeling and they had only been in the shop for twenty minutes.

Hermione waved the thirteenth wand and immediately felt a difference. There was an indescribable warmth in her fingers and she could see little golden sparks flash from the wand's tip. "Oh excellent. The wand appears to have chosen you Miss Granger! And Mr Granger, I would modify your statement, thirteen may be unlucky for some, but it is most certainly lucky for others." Ollivander beamed at her. It was one of the best things about his job, seeing little faces light up when they bought their first wands, it was even made better by the fact that he would often see the children or grandchildren of some of his first customers come to him for new wands with their parents and grandparents. He truly thought that he had the best job in the alley.

Once Hermione paid the seven galleons and three sickles for her wand, the elderly wand maker bowed them from his shop.

* * *

Ollivanders was their final stop of the day in Diagon Alley. McGonagall had queried whether Hermione would like a pet – Hogwarts students could have a cat, a toad or an owl. McGonagall advised against a toad deeming it a relatively useless creature. She told Hermione to wait and see if she wanted a cat because it would be living in her house dormitory for nine or ten months of the year surrounded by her and the girls she shared the dormitory with. So it would be best to get a cat if she wanted it once she had ascertained if anyone in her dormitory had a cat allergy. Owls were apparently the messengers of the wizarding world, delivering the mail to any and all. But McGonagall also warned that they could get very bored, very easily and seeing that the only people she could think of writing to would be her parents, Hermione decided wisely that there would be no point. She could always use a school owl. So pets were left for another day.

Their final appointment was to take Professor McGonagall to Kings Cross to take the train to Scotland. While they were there, McGonagall showed the Grangers how to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. You had to confidently walk into what appeared to be a solid brick wall which appeared to be a solid barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. Unfortunately she would have to say goodbye to her parents in the muggle side of the station as the platform was warded with muggle-repelling charms. From there, the Hogwarts Express, which would take her to the school in Scotland. McGonagall hen gave her ticket for the Express which left of September the first at eleven o'clock sharp.

She then left on a High Speed Train bound for Edinburgh. But before she did, she warned the Grangers against telling anyone else who was non-magical about the existence of the magical world and told them that she would owl them periodical updates on Hermione's time at school whilst Hermione reassured them that she would write back to them as much as she could. Telephones and nearly anything electric wouldn't work at Hogwarts due to the amount of magic. And with that, they saw the professor off. Well at least they thought they saw the professor off, in actuality, Minerva McGonagall went to the bathroom at the end of the carriage and disapparated.

* * *

The rest of the summer was spent in eager anticipation of September the first, Hogwarts and magic! Hermione was looking forward to the fact that she need not ever see India Chambers or her nasty cousins for the next couple of months, she promised to return for Christmas. She had already read all of the books she had bought from Diagon Alley from cover to cover twice, and in the case of the _Standard Book of Spells – Grade 1_ three times, she had even tried the wand movements of some of the more basic spells herself. She had also begun to practise using a quill, ink and parchment. Why didn't the magical world just use pen and paper? She felt like Shakespeare! It was so primitive. Hermione made sure she packed a few ordinary pieces of stationary in her trunk for September the first.

The situation almost seemed the reverse to something she had read about; during the space race, the Americans gave millions of dollars to NASA to develop a pen that would work in zero-gravity. They eventually invented one. The Russians just used a pencil. The Magical World seemed so primitive in some cases. Some of Hermione's books showed how many magical people did not use many of the aspects of 'normal' everyday life that she took for granted. There was no such thing as electricity, telephones, computers, central heating, or the concepts of religion or science. Maybe the absence of religion was a good thing – too many wars were caused by it in Hermione's view, and how could you have a God that is 'benevolent' when there is so much suffering in the world, which he knows about, being 'omniscient'? Nearly every army in history has claimed that they had one or more Gods on their side, and there is no real definite proof that such deities physically exist – well they wouldn't stand up to a 'Hermione standard of proof' according to her father.

When discussing the existence of God, Hermione was reminded of something she had read in one of her Dad's favourite books; The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It used the idea of the Babel Fish to disprove the idea of God. The Babel Fish acts as an automatic translator of any language in the universe:

"_"Now it is such a bizarrely improbable coincidence that anything so mind-bogglingly useful could have evolved purely by chance that some thinkers have chosen to see it as the final and clinching proof of the non-existence of God._

_"The argument goes something like this: 'I refuse to prove that I exist,' says God, 'for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.'_

_"'But,' says Man, 'the Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don't. QED.'_

_"'Oh dear,' says God, 'I hadn't thought of that,' and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic."_

Hermione though that she had read of the equivalent of a Babel Fish in one of the books that she had bought from Flourish and Blotts – a simple translation spell was briefly mention towards the end of the _Standard Book of Spells_ as not being studied until the _Standard Book of Spells – Grade 4_.

The fact there was no concept of Science should more accurately be no concept of Science_ as she knew it_. Potions and Herbology were the magical equivalents of Chemistry and Biology (to an extent). Astronomy covered one of many aspects of Physics, as did Charms and Transfiguration but she hadn't found anything that covered for example the creation of the Universe or the how everything exists. There was no mention of atoms or molecules. Most of their Astronomy was confined to the solar system and a few galaxies. Hermione doubted that a magical person had even been to the moon or into space for that matter. There was nothing on the laws of nature – how every reaction resulted in an equal or opposite reaction.

What was most perplexing was a book she had bought on the muggle world from Flourish and Blotts. It was called _Muggles – An Introduction_ and looked like it handed been updated since the nineteenth century. In short it called those who were non-magical 'primitive' in truth, Hermione thought that the magical world was primitive and backward thinking. Well at least Magical Britain was.

* * *

On the morning of September the first, they had got to Kings Cross, half an hour early, thankfully the traffic was light. Hermione and her Dad put her trunk on a trolley whilst her Mum dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

"I'll write as soon as I can Mum and I'm sure Professor McGonagall will write soon as well," she had reassured her, before confidently charging the barrier. The trolley would find its own way back to the muggle side of the station, courtesy of magic.

The gleaming scarlet steam engine was magnificent and Hermione had never gotten over the feeling of seeing for the first time. The journey to Hogwarts wouldn't merely be a journey to her new school, but a journey to the next chapter in her life. She was sure of it.

By the time Hermione boarded the train and stowed her trunk, the carriages were already half full. Unlike the modern muggle trains, the Hogwarts Express looked like it had come from the heyday of steam on Britain's railways. The carriages had individual compartments which gave the occupant a nice amount of privacy, peace and quiet. Hermione had feared that she would be stuck in the same carriage as a set of noisy teenagers for the nine and a half hours it took to get to Hogwarts.

She chose the first empty compartment she came across and was later asked by a nervous, slightly chubby boy with a slight stutter called Neville Longbottom if she would share as everywhere else was full and the compartment he had been in was invaded by some fifth years. Hermione readily agreed, knowing just what it was like to be bullied.

On the eight hour journey, she vowed to change her attitude to people in her classes as well. Hermione realised that one of her biggest aims in going to Hogwarts was to make friends and she thought she was tentatively making the acquaintance of Neville. She did realise that people didn't really like her slightly bossy 'know-it-all' attitude she had been told she possessed. Hermione decided to try and change that and attempted to use her knowledge to help people rather than to inadvertently annoy people.

Four hours in to the journey, Neville realised that he had lost his toad, Trevor. Hermione dutifully tried to help to find it and together they scoured the train. At one point they came across the compartment of Harry Potter. Hermione had read and been told about him. How he vanquished You-Know-Who as a baby and then vanished from the wizarding world. He was with a friend. A redhead called Ronald Weasley. They didn't immediately hit off. She didn't know what to make of Harry but Ron seemed downright hostile. "Whatever house I'm in, I hope I'm not in it," she had heard him mutter as they continued the search for Trevor. The toad was eventually found by Hagrid, the gamekeeper when they arrived at the castle.

Hermione was already feeling a little hurt by the time they arrived back in their compartment to get their robes to change. Dismayed at the fact that she had already made an enemy and they hadn't even reached the castle yet.

Hermione was walking back to her compartment from the bathroom where she had changed when she came back across Messrs Potter and Weasley and their compartment looked like a tornado had been through it. Looking back on her second encounter, she knew she had sounded pompous, full of herself and very arrogant. More like their mothers than a schoolmate.

* * *

Hogwarts was impressive, there was no doubt about that, and seeing the castle from the lake silhouetted against a moonlit sky, ten thousand torches blazing in the night air was a truly magical experience, one she would remember until her dying day.

When they entered Professor McGonagall's care in the lakeside cavern, her excitement ratcheted up a notch. Although McGonagall had told her many things about Hogwarts, she had not been told how they would be sorted into their houses. She was a little nervous and eagerly whispered to any and all present about everything she had learned or read about Hogwarts over the summer. _Hogwarts – A History_ didn't mention anything either about the process whereby the students would be divided into the four constituent houses.

As it turned out, all you had to do was place a hat on your head and the hat would shout out the name of your new house. But not before it sang a very humorous song detailing its creation, its purpose and the essentials of each house.

Once the hat had finished its exultations, to the applause of the hall, the sorting began. Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones went to Hufflepuff and the number of people yet to be sorted gradually shrank. Justin Finch Fletchley (who was a muggleborn like herself) also went to Hufflepuff.

It was then Hermione's turn, and she had one of the strangest conversations she had ever had. It's not every day that you talk to a hat. What was weirder was the fact that it all occurred in her head.

"Hmmm…another muggleborn. You have quite a mind my dear and knowledge and a thirst to learn worthy of Rowena Ravenclaw herself. However you also possess ambition like a Slytherin and the hardworking and sense of fair play that Helga Hufflepuff herself possessed."

"Thanks, I guess," she told the hat it her head.

"But where to put you? That is the question. Although I think your defining aspect is your bravery and courage at heart. Your time at muggle primary school was not pleasant from what I can see here and it takes a lot of courage to set foot in this world of ours, especially if you had no knowledge of it before July."

"So I'm a Gryffindor then?"

"You possess admirable qualities for all four houses."

"I've heard Gryffindor is the best of all four houses."

"All four are as good as each other, although sadly over the ten centuries in which I have had this task, the theme of house unity has been forgotten. Not since the time of the founders has this school been so divided. Alas, I should stop rambling. Are you sure you would like to be Gryffindor? Ravenclaw is the house of knowledge and learning, of which you present copious quantities."

"Yes but Gryffindor is the home of the brave."

"And you have been brave Miss Granger, do not forget it. You have the potential for great things. So if you are sure…better be GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted the last word to the hall. Hermione could see Ron Weasley grimace. "Good luck Miss Granger," the hat had said in parting.

"Thanks."

* * *

That night, the only person she really struck up a friendship with was with Percy Weasley. Hermione didn't mind, t was a present breath of fresh air from being teased by her former classmates. By the end of the first week things hadn't really changed, she enjoyed every lesson, but Potions. Professor Snape, although an expert in his field was simply a bad teacher who enjoyed intimidating students.

Her classmates gave her a little respect for the amount of knowledge she had but some seemed to dislike her 'know-it-all' attitude that she was trying to tame. Some of the boys in Gryffindor particularly. She was thinking of a particular redhead who seemed to hate her with every fibre of her being. She tried to help people, to advise them, she really did but it didn't really change anything. Most of her spare time was spent studying in the library.

Things got to a head when she overheard Harry and Ron discussing a proposed wizard's duel against Malfoy after curfew. Despite being told it was none of her business, she decided to try and put a stop to it because she didn't want to them to lose house points that she had worked hard to earn. In the end, when they left the common room she had followed them in a last ditch attempt to try and stop them but when she tried to go back to the portrait hole, the door had already closed behind her and the Fat Lady had gone on a midnight wander. She was stuck, so she decided to go with them to try and keep them out of trouble.

Malfoy never materialised. Mrs Norris did. And they had fled into the third floor corridor, the very same corridor that was out of bounds to all those "who do not want to die a most painful death" according to Dumbledore. It so happened that this corridor was home to a giant Cerberus. Which Hermione later found out belonged to Hagrid and was called Fluffy. They had escaped both Filch and the monstrous canine by the skins of their teeth. Hermione had ended the evening memorably – at least to her. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to bed – before one of you comes up with another silly idea to get us killed, or worse, expelled." Hermione Granger really valued her education.

It really didn't endear her to her future friends. And Ron and Harry had really put a bee in her bonnet. Hallowe'en was the turning point.

That morning they had been doing levitation charms and Hermione felt the need to correct Ron, one too many times. "It's Win-gar-dium Levi-oh-sa not Levi-oh-sar!" She then proceeded to cast the spell correctly to Professor Flitwick's applause. By the end of the lesson Ron was fuming.

"It's a wonder anyone can stand her. She's a nightmare, honestly. She must have noticed she hasn't got any friends," he had said to Harry as they left class. Hermione heard her and suddenly the insecurities she had been keeping at bay since September surfaced once again and she burst into tears and rushed past them.

She dashed to the nearest bathroom, locked herself in a cubicle and cried her eyes out. She hadn't lost it this badly since her time at Holland Park. She then did the unthinkable and missed the rest of the day's lessons. She looked at her watch several hours later and saw that the rest of the school were now enjoying the Hallowe'en feast so she decided to try and slip back up unnoticed to Gryffindor Tower.

The troll found her before Harry and Ron did. In fact for a couple of moments they locked the troll in with her. She was scared beyond belief. The boys realising their mistake quickly tried to help her. Well Harry helped her, she had to give Ron instructions.

Harry jumped on the troll's back and stuck his wand up its nose in an attempt to distract it away from Hermione. Ron then tried and failed to levitate the troll's massive club in an attempt to knock it out. He had the incantation correct but the wand movement was wrong.

"Swish and flick!" she shouted desperately.

It worked, Ron was able to hold the charm long enough for the club to float above the troll's head before it fell, knocking the giant humanoid unconscious. Seconds later the teachers arrived. McGonagall was furious.

Hermione decided to try and act like a friend and took some of the flak, insisting that it was her fault the boys had come to be in that situation. She lost five points and was sent back to the dormitories. Harry and Ron soon followed after gaining five points each for "sheer dumb luck". Hermione looked a little embarrassed at the end of it but such a momentous event had made all three overcome their scruples with each other. Hermione thanked them for saving her life, Ron and Harry thanked her for saving them from an irate McGonagall. A witch who should not be crossed. Ever.

From that moment on, they were friends. There are some things you cannot share with others and not end up liking them. Knocking out a twelve foot mountain troll is one of them.

* * *

The friendship had lasted in some form or another ever since. There were times were Hermione thought that her relationship with either of the boys could go further with a little nudge in the right direction but nothing as of yet had happened. She was in a relationship with Ron but they hardly saw one another outside of work and she saw Harry more often than she saw Ron, he actually made the effort to come and see her during their lunch hour at the Ministry, Ron went back to the Burrow and gorged himself on Mrs Weasley's excellent cooking. Consequentially, they had stopped calling it a 'relationship' and returned to describing it as a 'friendship'.

In fact, when she thought about it. Any relationship she had with Harry had flourished more than it had had with Ron. That relationship was much more stable, although they only remained the best of friends, but Hermione was sure that there had been times when both wished that it had been something more. Perhaps it could, one day.

* * *

_A/N: I hope you liked this. Please go and read the original story via my profile and check out my other works._


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